This is your awakening.

You realize it’s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon.

You realize that in the real world there aren’t always fairy tale endings, and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you…and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are…and that’s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.

You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself…and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval.

Your stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you – or didn’t do for you – and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.

You learn that people don’t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and everything isn’t always about you.

So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself…and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties…and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.

You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you’ve outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.

You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a “consumer” looking for you next fix.

You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.

You learn that you don’t know everything, it’s not you job to save the world and that you can’t teach a pig to sing. You learn the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.

You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.

You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drinking more water, and take more time to exercise.

You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.

More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it’s OK to risk asking for help.

You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.

You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.

You learn that life isn’t always fair, you don’t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people…and you lean not to always take it personally.

You learn that nobody’s punishing you and everything isn’t always somebody’s fault. It’s just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.

You lean that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.

You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than you heart’s desire.

You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.

Finally, with courage in you heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best as you can.

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine”    
― Pablo Neruda

The fruit descends
like a chapter of lightening:

Purified light,
fertile in its volume
of vein
and juice,
of peel and gleaming.

The fruit fills
the shadow burn
of your hand.

Shadow of transfixed
and curved delight.

Here, then, is the fruit,
its grams
stripped bare,
in the Sun of a hand.

What I See

I see the mirrors of the Spirit
snagged
on the dark lip of virtue.

I see clusters of impacts
secreted amid the vegetation
of hypnotized serenity.

I see murmuring’s text,
the calligraphy of things,
the deep stroke
of an ampersand between two words.

I see larvae, pipes,
and forks next to
murky encyclopedias.

I see grime and the slender beauty
of a hand-blown bottle
and the labyrinth of a carpet.

I see deserted roads
and pathways lit by greed.

I see reflections and curves,
the poem’s uneven body
of letters, the sudden pools
of a spasm, the enfolding waters.

I see your arms in the tenuous light
of the world at dusk
and the comfort of your lips
against the blue display of phenomena.

For one thing, our initial response is not always what’s best for us, or for the other people involved. Reacting to childish rage with childish rage will only escalate the negativity in a situation, further ensnaring us in an undesirable dynamic. Similarly, when we react defensively, or simply thoughtlessly, we often end up feeling regret over our words or actions. In the end, we save ourselves a lot of pain when we take a deep breath and really tune in to ourselves, and the other person, before we respond. This doesn’t necessarily mean we don’t say anything, although in some cases, that may be the best option.

Some situations require a fairly immediate response, but even just a moment of grounding ourselves before we do so can help enormously. The next time you find yourself wanting to react, try to pause, and in that pause, take a deep breath. Feel your feet on the floor, the air on your skin, and listen for a response to arise within you, rather than just going with the first thing that pops into your head. You may find that in that moment, there is the potential to move beyond reaction and into the more subtle and creative realm of response, where something new can happen.

Nevertheless, it is important that we not revel in our jealousy for too long, feeding it with inner talk or gossip with others. If we do, we run the risk of losing ourselves to its negative power. Jealousy has something good to offer us, though, and that is information about our own heart’s desire. When we are jealous of certain people, we want what they have, and if we are to be conscious, we must acknowledge that. In this way, we discover what we want for ourselves, which is the first step to getting it. It may be a certain kind of relationship or a career. Whatever it is, it is possible that we could create it for ourselves, in our own lives, if we are able to honor our own desires.

Of course, there are times when we cannot heal our jealousy in this way, and then the lesson may be about acceptance and the understanding that our path is different from the paths of those around us. It may be hard to see now, but perhaps it will eventually be clear why our life has taken its particular path. In the end, the best cure for jealousy is the recognition that the life we have is full of its own meaning and beauty, utterly unique to us—a gift that could never be found in the life of another.

Outside a bowl held a variety of candies and chocolates, eerie music drifted over the front garden that was sporting a pair of dangling skeletons, and many planters full of dead geraniums, recently frozen by an unexpected deep freeze. Some children braved the long walk to the porch, others pondered, but fled into the night...

I used to like trick or treating, but tonight, I wanted to treat her like her husband never did. We had become lovers by accident, but neither one of us ever wanted it to stop. She had been helping my grandfather do his shopping when I appeared on the scene fresh off a divorce. For the next many months we had been doing the dance of desire, but it was not until some alcohol had been introduced into the mix that she had kissed me in her kitchen, and then, little by little, over the following days I had talked her out of her clothes a bit at a time. She was a reluctant adulterer, but the heat of our kisses made her desires wash away her vows, and although it took awhile, her silky red valentines panties, that were bought and paid for by her husband, were at her ankles and my tongue teased his promised pussy.

There had been some other stolen moments shared between us, but tonight, on Halloween, her husband was to take her to an executive costume party before he had to fly away across the country for a morning meeting. Their infant daughter was with his parents and after she dropped him at the airport, she did not need to be home until the following afternoon. This was the first extended period that we were going to get to spend together and I wanted it to be perfect.

I sat in my recliner and gazed at my semi-hard cock through my bikini "'Tis The Season, To Be Squeezin'" underwear that she had left for me in my mailbox earlier in the week. It throbbed when I touched it and already a slight wet spot was apparent. I wanted to stroke it, I knew I would come quickly and I promised her I would save myself for her. Funny, eh? She was able to have sex with her husband whenever she wanted, but here I was abstaining from whacking off so I could remain faithful to her. Mind you, had sex with her man been worth a fuck, she would not have been tempted into my arms, and soon my bed.

The warmth of the fire had me very relaxed and I closed my eyes for what I thought was a few minutes, but when I heard the side door opening and a slight bark from one of the dogs, I knew she had arrived. I did not get up to greet her as a note hanging over the kitchen calendar instructed her to go to the front hall for more instructions. I did catch a glimpse of her as she went by the doorway, she looked great in her nurse uniform costume that he had wanted her to wear, but soon she would be made up to my liking.

She paused in the hall and read the next note in the gentle light of two penis shaped candles. I heard her take a deep breath, and my pulse raced. As ours was a forbidden relationship, there were times that she had tried to end it as it was the right thing to do, and some of the few times that we had been able to grab an hour or two together she would have a hard time getting into the mood as her mind was working overtime about the moral implications of the situation. I hoped that she was not in one of those moods, but was prepared to be disappointed again. But I knew that everything was going to be OK when I saw her sit on the stairs and remove her shoes and then slightly raise her sexy ass as her panty hose slithered down her legs.

She rose and headed upstairs and I heard her laugh when she saw the spewing mist fall over the banister as the red light from the hall light let up my man-made "fog". From that moment for the next several minutes I did not know what was happening exactly, but if she had followed the upstairs instructions on the computer, she would have downed a couple of glasses of wine, done a strip tease for herself in front of a floor length mirror I had installed next to my computer, she would have teased her nipples with a small vibrator, and finally moved to a variety of rooms to find different parts of the costume that I wanted to see her in. Then, it would be time for her to present herself to me in front of the fire.

Since we had met and she had confided in me about the terrible state of her sex life, I had quickly realized that what was missing was teasing, fun and lust. I had always strived to give her all of these things, and much to my delight I proved to her that her supposed medical condition that did not allow her to lubricate enough for comfortable intercourse was not at all true and that her juices could and would flow copiously when the right partner was priming her pump. I knew that after her scavenger hunt, and the wine that she would more than ready for whatever I wanted. And I don't say that in a bad or demeaning way as she had also confided in me that she was in fact a bit on the submissive side and that she responded very well to instructions, and although she would never admit this to her girlfriends, it was the way she was and properly encouraged, she could be a dirty little slave slut.

She appeared in front of me, and handed me a glass of wine. I rose to my feet, took a healthy swig and offered her the rest. She took a sip, paused, looked into my encouraging eyes and tipped back the rest. It did not take much to get her drunk as she was a slight woman, and the blush on her cheeks told me that she was on the way to losing her inhibitions with me.

I sat back down and told her to let me look at her. She stepped back and the light from the fire lit her up. I took my time drinking her in with my eyes and as they roamed over her, I did a little spin movement with my head and she turned around slowly. My choice of costume might have shocked her a bit, but she knew I liked red and although I am sure the thong bothered her sensitive asshole, she new I liked her ass and indeed it was her best feature. Soon she faced me again, but another head twirl and she once again turned to allow me to see her backside. She knew that she should not move again until I directed her, and after about 10 seconds she bent slightly forward and let her weight rest on her left foot making her ass look even sexier and fuller.

I cleared my throat and she turned around to face me. Now her breathing was shallow, and the redness from her face had moved to her chest and her small breasts were heaving and they looked like they had grown. Lust was written all over her face and the red fishnet top I had selected clung to her body allowing her nipples to be aroused with each breath as the soft fabric teased them. Teasing is wonderful, but pushed too far it can be a bad thing and this wife of another man and mother of a little girl was now in need of some physical contact, yes I had transformed her into a wicked wanton wild woman and she wanted relief, she wanted to escape, she wanted me.

As was our custom, the last thing removed from her before we began our lovemaking was her watch. She did not wear her wedding ring most of the time as she had a metal allergy, but this watch was significant in that her husband had gotten it for her in an effort to calm her after he came home drunk from a strip joint. When this timepiece was removed, she was free of him; she was submitting to my urges, she was mine!

As the watch was put on the mantle, she looked at me, little bubbles were forming at the sides of her mouth, and I extended by arms to her. In an instant we embraced, and our lips met. Our kissing was nothing ordinary, and our hands roamed freely all over each other as our lips ran wild and our passions grew. It was always quite literally like you see in the movies, where each peck, each lick, each long lingering kiss brought our blood to a boil and the moans and whimpers she emitted had my already rigid cock harder than hard and she could feel it against her, and she pressed her loins against me and twisted and contorted herself in an effort to get it to touch her most sensitive spot.

As our movements became more frantic, we bumped teeth and paused to look at each other. I took this opportunity to put my hands at the sides of her top and slowly start to move it up her body. She shuddered slightly and I continued to go higher until her nipples hit the open air and her breasts were there for me to see. She had very small breasts, but very large nipples, and when we had first met she was very self-conscious about her chest, but soon she would rip her shirt off in excitement when we were together and proudly prance around topless for me. She also told me that her nipples were not very sensitive, but after a bit of exploration, I had found just the right way to suck/nibble them. And that is just what I did. I started sucking on the left breast and took hold of the right one running my palm around and around. Her knees almost gave way, but I held her up and switched my insistent sucking on her right nipple. She threw her head back and pushed her crotch forward as a squeal erupted from deep within her.

Another very sensitive spot I had found on her was her ears and as I palmed one breast, I pulled her to me and assaulted her ear...slowly at first with gently pecks and kisses, but soon I introduced the tongue and as I felt her hand reaching for my manhood, I encased her entire ear into my mouth and again her knees buckled. But again I saved her from falling and we shared a long hug topped off with us sliding from side to side in each others arms and we both gasped as our nipples met and exchanged pleasantries. Again her hand reached for me and this time, I stepped back slightly and allowed her roaming finger free access to my briefs. She took her time once she had reached the Promised Land and stroked me gently but firmly, and she too palmed the head of my erection as I had done to her nipples. Now it was time for me to erupt a primal grunt/moan and she pulled at the material until I heard a ripping noise and poof, I was naked. My dick sprang free and she wasted no time getting both hands in on the action, and we again kissed with tremendous urgency. My hands ran up and down her back and then moved to the sides of her panties. She stepped back and I lowered her last garment little by little. But the floor was not their destination, yet. No, we had discovered that despite our different body types that our genitals were at the perfect height to mingle as we kissed and groped. And her panties at just the right level, gave my penis just a bit more of an upward angle and that allowed my tip to run back and forth all along her slit without entering, but it was able to pry her swollen lips apart and allow her juices to ooze out and coat me with her precious liquid.

Before we had gone all the way, I am sure that this position had allowed me to enter her slightly and I knew that made it possible as she had raised one leg and altered the angle just enough to let the head slip inside. Tonight, there was no question of her intentions as she jumped slightly into the air and I felt her tightness sucking me into her. But it was not time for that yet and I set her feet back on the floor and continued our genital tease and again I inhaled her ear.

My little man was drenched and it slid up and down, back and forth with complete ease, and each time it got close to her clit she shook from head to toe. She was mine to do with what I wanted, and that is what she wanted...it was time to take charge.

I withdrew myself and gave her a long lingering kiss. She looked into my eyes and I gazed downwards. She knew what to do and slowly, with my aid she dropped to her knees in front of me and began kissing my thighs as her hands grasped my buttocks, and I felt a large droplet of pre-come leak out of me. She was a great cocksucker and although she did not enjoy swallowing all the time, tonight she made it clear that she wanted whatever I had to give her. When she backed up a bit and looked right at my pride and joy, she took her index finger and collected my clear fluid on her finger. Then, she looked up into my eyes and sucked and licked her finger clean. Without breaking her stare, she moved forward and ran the tip of her tongue around the head of Mr. Woody. And as my eyes closed involuntarily I felt her mouth engulf me and begin a slow journey ending with her nose buried in my pubes. She knew I liked it slow and steady and that is exactly what she did. As I lost track of all time, I don't know how many circuits she made at this very slow speed, but I'll bet each trip down my root took at least 15 seconds, and then she started twirling around the head.

She was better than good, finer than fine, she was a champion and I marveled at my good fortune at being the recipient of this glorious sex act that if she did not write a book about it, she must have read all the Cosmos in the world to learn all the tricks she knew. But, despite her technique, I had never been able to let go in her mouth, but tonight I wanted to more than anything on earth, but that was also why I was destined to fail. So, as she was increasing the tempo and stroking the underside of my balls, I pulled out of her mouth, put one of her hands on my ass crack, and I reached down and started to manipulate myself. I knew it would not take long, and as her fingers made efforts to get in between my rock hard ass, I felt my orgasm rising. I looked down at her and she could see the urgency all over my face. Both of her hands were now on my ass and I was shaking and my feet were doing a jig upon the floor. I was almost at the point of no return and she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. The sight of her ready to receive my load accelerated my stroking speed to yet another untested gear, and I felt that magical feeling start to course throughout me. I was about 6 strokes away from blast off and just about over the edge, nothing could stop me now. Nothing would make me happier than to feel her mouth back on my dick and I stopped pumping and let it dangle in front of her. She knew what to do and without missing a beat, she clamped onto me and deep throated me. I looked down into her eyes as I felt the first ribbon erupt. Her face took on a look of surprise, but she did not release her grip upon me and splat #2 pulsed out of me. She gulped and swallowed quickly, I think the volume of my spunk startled her, but as I mentioned before, I had been denying myself any jerking off for the past several days. She became adjusted to the amount and the speed of the loads and she swallowed every last drop, and kept my cock in her mouth as it slowly softened.

I had to sit down and she grabbed another glass of wine, and washed down my come with a large gulp. Then she climbed onto my lap and we held each other and kissed deeply. My hands found her titties and they felt larger than I had ever felt them. I squeezed them together producing a very substantial amount of cleavage, something she had not been able to display since her breast feeding days. She smiled and we kissed and held on like we were the last lovers on earth.

But she was also desperate for relief and I knew what she wanted. So, I picked her up in my arms and carried her upstairs through the fog and gently placed her upon my bed. I had a very silky old comforter that had belonged to my grandmother and despite the heat from the fire; it always felt cool and refreshing. As I am left-handed, I lay down beside her so that I could make use of this as my primary hand of pleasure. The light was low and her body looked so sexy in the near darkness. I paused to turn on a lamp at the side of the bed. She normally did not like to do it in the light, but I wanted to see her and yes, she wanted to be seen. Both of my hands danced all over her and every little while one would head in the direction of her pussy, but just as her huge bush was on the verge of my fingers, I would retreat or bypass. Her body would shake, and she would gasp as those first hairs were displaced, but she knew that I would play her like a violin, and she would soon cry out.

After many almost contacts, I finally allowed my middle finger to slip into her vaginal cleft and begin to explore. She was so wet and her lips we so engorged that I actually had a bit of a hard time gaining entry. She sensed this and her legs flew wide apart. Still, it took some effort to find her wetness, but once that first tip made it in, her eyes closed tight, and she groaned and her ass lifted off the bed in an effort to have my digit get deeper inside of her. And for the moment, she did get a bit more finger, but as my hand withdrew and I lubricated her nipples with her juices. She bit down on her lip and I licked both nipples and sucked them hard. My hand went back to her snatch, but without warning two fingers plunged into her and her hips wiggled in appreciation. As I delved deeper and deeper, my thumb moved across her thatch and nestled on her clit. Now she began to shake and her nipples tightened almost to the bursting point. I pulled out and re-inserted my middle finger and hooked it upwards in search of that which her husband could never find, or never cared to find. I pulled her closer to me and kissed her as I felt the end of my appendage touched the tissue that I knew would bring her off, and within moments, she was calling out my name, just like she did in her head when she masturbated, and like she did when fumble bum tried to engage her in intercourse.

Her body tightened, and I slipped my free hand down onto her ass and slipped a bit of finger into her ass, and then I held on for dear life while I looked into her eyes as they rolled back in her head and she screamed as wave after wave of orgasm rocked her world and infiltrated her body from head to toe.

We snuggled a bit, and then she drifted off to sleep. It was late, but we still had about 8 hours to share and I set about getting ready for the second coming, with a new set of costumes, and a lambskin condom.

I had always wanted to fuck her doggie, but she had never let me do it, but tonight, I would not take no for an answer and she would likely never refuse me my favourite position again...